Searching for treasure
For the past hour, or so, my niece has been sniffling. She inhales deeply, trying to retain the mucus. It doesn't work. She's congested. She's also miffed, judging by her face. After the hundredth sniffle, I walk over to the box of tissues my sister has beside the fireplace and pull one out.
"Here, come to Uncle," I wave my arm towards my niece. "Come over here and blow your nose."
Like a dutiful child, she takes a few steps over and blows into the tissue. "Again," I command. She blows her nose. "Once more." She repeats the same action. "Feeling better?" I ask and she nods her head up and down.
Not long after, in between a few more sniffles, I see her with her finger up her nose. She's concentrating. It's as if she's scratching her brain by way of her nostril. It's bothering me.
"B, what are you doing?"
Without skipping a beat, my newly three-year-old niece replies, "Searching for treasure," while digging her finger further up her nose.
I guffaw loudly. If I had anything in my mouth, it would've been a spit take. Then, the laughter begins. Where did she get that? I think. True, I have taught her several things that my sister and BIL wouldn't have wanted me to, but this isn't one of them. I describe body functions in PG-13 terms, suitable for impressionable children, if not their disapproving parents.
When she picks her nose in front of her parents, later on in the night, they tell her to stop. Her response is the same: She's searching for treasure. They lose it.
"Where does she get those things?" asks my sister in between laughs. She looks my way.
"Don't look at me." I wave my hands in protest. "That's one I didn't teach her."
"Here, come to Uncle," I wave my arm towards my niece. "Come over here and blow your nose."
Like a dutiful child, she takes a few steps over and blows into the tissue. "Again," I command. She blows her nose. "Once more." She repeats the same action. "Feeling better?" I ask and she nods her head up and down.
Not long after, in between a few more sniffles, I see her with her finger up her nose. She's concentrating. It's as if she's scratching her brain by way of her nostril. It's bothering me.
"B, what are you doing?"
Without skipping a beat, my newly three-year-old niece replies, "Searching for treasure," while digging her finger further up her nose.
I guffaw loudly. If I had anything in my mouth, it would've been a spit take. Then, the laughter begins. Where did she get that? I think. True, I have taught her several things that my sister and BIL wouldn't have wanted me to, but this isn't one of them. I describe body functions in PG-13 terms, suitable for impressionable children, if not their disapproving parents.
When she picks her nose in front of her parents, later on in the night, they tell her to stop. Her response is the same: She's searching for treasure. They lose it.
"Where does she get those things?" asks my sister in between laughs. She looks my way.
"Don't look at me." I wave my hands in protest. "That's one I didn't teach her."
Authored by S at 12:00 am
3 Comments:
treasure huh. is that what the kids are calling it now?
That is very funny, who knows where they get this stuff is right. My cousin puts his hands on his hips and shakes his head saying "Dats usssgusting!" Crazy.
Probably the influence of some United States cartoon show on Nickelodean.
Those damn Americans, eh?
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